so near that they fired on him. He desired no more, and the fight began smartly; but the wind favouring the French, they kept sailing away, but pouring all their broadsides on his masts and rigging, which they damaged a good deal. This flying fight lasted two hours and our admiral promised himself a complete battle the next day: but, as the French meant mischief and not glory, at day break they were vanished-in short, got into port; and Keppel is returned to Plymouth, heartily chagrined that his enemies are so little ashamed of running away.* There is as little prospect of laurels from Byron's squadron. Both his fleet and D'Estaing's have suffered by a great storm. Nor are we likely to have more olives than laurels. The Congress has treated our Commissioner with sovereign contempt;† and the Commissioners themselves have quarrelled, and are coming home. Thus we have begged peace of those we bullied, and only been laughed at. We seem to have wearied Fortune in the last war. Cæsar seems to have made as bad a figure as we. After usurping Bavaria, he is forced to beg peace too. They say he is convinced of having been in the wrong, by a renunciation that has been found of the Emperor Albert. It is the first time a hero at the head of two hundred and twenty thousand men was ever convinced by an old parchment! His Imperial reason did not deign to listen to law and equity in the dismemberment of Poland; nor would he now, I ween, if Lord Chief Justice Frederic had not enclosed him with more numerous armies. We did not pay much regard to the charters of America, till France helped the latter to carry on the suit. * Admiral Keppel, finding it in vain to attempt a general or partial chase, determined to return to England to repair the heavy damages his fleet had sustained. He arrived at Plymouth on the 31st of July. Amongst the numerous letters of congratulation received by the Admiral on this occasion, was one from Mr. Burke: "You have," he says" saved us twice in one summer; once by retreating, and once by fighting. The disciplined mob of court-runners in the City thought proper, for some time, to censure the conduct to which we owe it; but the appearance of the French fleet off Ushant has shown you wisdom and their folly. Every honest man, every man of judgment, congratulates you and himself, with a sedate joy, on this great and eminent advantage. The designs which this fleet of the enemy was meant to second are defeated, and the honour of our flag completely secured." Life of Keppel, vol. ii. p. 57.-ED. The condition of the Commissioners on the 22nd of July is thus feelingly depicted by Lord Carlisle, in a letter to George Selwyn: "When you see before you the list of our misfortunes, I think I shall have your compassion. 1. We are blocked up by a French fleet. 2. We are kept in prison, as we dare not ride beyond our posts towards the country. 3. If any attack is made, either by sea or land, we wish more than we are likely to gain. 4. If certain events, which are not improbable, should take place, we shall be inevitably starved. 5. We have tried the Congress, and you will think with me that, in our present circumstances, they will not depart from their resolution in refusing our offers. 6. Our packet is taken, which would perhaps have relieved me from a state of suspense, that I have not public virtue enough not to think more bitter than many of those misfortunes which my country must feel as well as myself. I own fairly we have nothing to do here; but we must not quit the business till that point is so clear as not to admit of two opinions." Selwyn Correspondence, vol. iii. p. 301.-ED. I am very anxious for the confirmation of this pacification in Germany; for the Duke of Gloucester was just setting out to make the campaign under the King of Prussia. It was worthy of his spirit, and no body dared to remonstrate against it; and yet the physicians think he could not support an autumnal campaign. The Duchess herself has only shed floods of tears, but not murmured. haviour of both does them infinite honour. The be Your friends the Mackenzies,* are arrived, and Mrs. Anne Pitt is expected daily. Mrs. Foote's friend, old Lady Westmoreland,† is dead, and the ancient beauty, Lady Fanny Shirley, she had lost her head some time, and her senses before, for she has made Lady Huntingdons her heir, having turned Methodist when she was no longer admired. Our summer is as Italian as yours: I do not remember such a one. Adieu ! LETTER CCLXXXIX. Arlington Street, Aug. 25, 1778. You tell me, my dear sir, that you depend so entirely on me for intelligence, at least for the confirmation of public events, that I must not let yesterday's Gazette go away to-night without writing you a line. Military narratives are apt to be a little oracular, and ours of late have wanted some additional obscurity. You will collect from yesterday's, that General Clinton's army did get to New York, though with some difficulty, which, ministerially, you are to take for a victory; and, wherever any darkness hangs over it, you must clear it up on our side. I divine that Washington was ill served, for he has brought two of his Generals to a court-martial; and the excessive heats seem to have fought against both armies. This is the quintessence of what I know of the matter; and, upon the whole, the Royal army has gained an escape-I doubt, not much to their comfort; for they find no plenty at New York, and Monsieur D'Estaing blocks up the fleet there: so, probably, accounts will not mend. Our fleet at home has not sailed again. There are rumours of dissensions between Admiral Keppel and Sir Hugh Palliser, and even of a duel between them; which, however, I have heard from no good authority; in short, I have nothing agreeable to tell you, and I do not love to send any thing that is not to the glory of my country 'cross the Channel. *James Stuart Mackenzie, only brother of Lord Bute, married Lady Elizabeth Campbell, third daughter of John, Duke of Argyll. Daughter of a son of the first Duke of Devonshire. Formerly a great beauty, admired and celebrated by Lord Chesterfield, who wrote on her the well-known song, "When Fanny, blooming fair." Lady Selina Shirley, niece of Lady Fanny, and patroness of the Methodists. The German peace seems to halt. I should think it, however, still in agitation; as no considerable action has happened. The Duke of Gloucester has yet received no answer from the Prussian, but expects it this week. He is determined to go if he is accepted-to every peril indeed, for his strength is not equal to it. We have had the most marvellous summer that I ever remember in all my days. It is still sultry; and I am suffering, though I write between every open door and window in a back-room where the sun never enters. The harvest is prodigious; and we might have wine and oil, had we made preparations for them. The Duke of Ancaster is dead, and the Mastership of the Horse to be disposed of. This would have been an object in some summers; but we do not want topics of conversation at present. I used to make excuses for the shortness of my letters at this season. That is not the case at present. I have given you the reason at the top of this page. Adieu ! LETTER CCXC. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 17, 1778. YOUR last is of August 22nd, and mine of the 25th. Since then I could have told you nothing but expectations; nor are they realized yet. Admiral Keppel has been hunting for the Brest fleet, which has either gone southward, or is dodging in and out of their ports: at least he had not found it. But if the god of sea-fights does not smile, the god of merchantmen has wrought miracles: all our fleets are come in from Portugal, the West Indies, and every other mart: he has been as cunning as if he were the demon of smugglers. Letters are arrived, too, from New York. D'Estaing had quitted that blockade, and was thought to be sailed to attack Rhode Island. Lord Howe was gone after him with an inferior force, but, they say, hoping to be joined by six of Byron's squadron; which six are come to light again, and were not far off. Of that Admiral not a word. This is the quintessence of all I know. In my family we are very happy that the King of Prussia has sent the Duke a most handsome excuse, being afraid of exposing a constitution so delicate as his Royal Highness's to the fatigues of a latter campaign; so, that anxiety is at an end! Prince Henry's success has not availed much. Having devoured the country, the Prussians have been forced to step back. The people that have been devoured count for nothing. Your Duchess of Kingston is a paltry mountebank. It is too ridiculous to have airs after conviction. Mrs. Anne Pitt, I hear, is *The situation was conferred on the Duke of Northumberland.—ED. arrived. Her nephew, Mr. Thomas Pitt, I believe, you will see ere long. A weakness is fallen on his knees, and made him a cripple. He is, I think, set out for Italy, like Æneas, with his Creusa, her father of eighty-seven, and two sucking babes.* Let me give you a caution: he and I have never been on more than civil terms since Mr. Grenville's reign. He now swears by the ghost of his uncle Chatham, whom in those days he detested. I saw Mr. Mackenzie last week, who spoke of you with the heartiest kindness; and so does Lady Bett.† Lady Chesterfield is dead, at above fourscore. She was not a girl when she came over with George I. What can I tell you more? My politics, beyond facts, would be but the conjectures of a private dreamer. Yet I am ashamed to send such a sippet of a letter; especially when you are impatient for mine, and reckon on and depend upon them. But you would not trust to them, if I were not cautious not to send you any thing but truths; no easy task, if I were not brief. Ten thousand lies are propagated every week, not only by both sides, but by stock-jobbers; for those grave folks, moneyed citizens, contribute exceedingly to embroil and confound history, which was not very authentic before they were spawned. Newspapers, that ought to facilitate intelligence, are the vehicles of lies, and blunders, and scandal; and Truth, which formerly could trudge ten miles on foot, cannot now get along the road for the crowds of counterfeits. An historian, who shall consult the gazettes of the times, will write as fabulous a romance as Gargan tua. You will wish to know something of Spain's intentions. I am sure I cannot satisfy you. She has a fleet, and she arms; but her Ambassador is here-if to blind us, his purpose is not quite answered, for many have no faith in him. On the other hand, though at war with France, neither country takes notice of it. The English pass through Calais as quietly as just after a peace. The Spanish Ambassador, whose size makes him look as if he represented the King of Lilliput, diverts the town with his gallantries, which are not at all in the style of the novels of his country, nor consist in mere serenades. He made a visit lately to a house of ill odour, and, though they say his wife is jealous, he left his two footmen at the door with flambeaux. His generosity, too, was not of a piece with the masters of Peru. He gave the nymph but half guinea, and a shilling to the maid. As a pigmy does not pay with his person, the damsels made much noise against the receipt of silver pennies, which might be in proportion to his stature, but not to his character. Mr. Thomas Pitt, in 1783 created Lord Camelford, married, in 1771, the daughter and co-heir of Pinkney Wilkinson, Esq., of Burnham in Norfolk; by whom he had one son, Thomas, his successor, who was killed in a duel in 1804, and one daughter, who, in 1792, was married to William, Lord Grenville.-ED. Lady Elizabeth Campbell, third daughter of John Duke of Argyll. Count Almodovar. To stifle their clamours, he declared he was the Venetian Resident; and now he has a quarrel on his hands with that Minister for the double scandal. LETTER CCXCI. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 8, 1778. As you are so earnest for news, I am concerned when I have not a paragraph to send you. It looks as if distance augmented your apprehensions; for, I assure you, at home we have lost almost all curiosity. Though the two fleets have been so long at sea, and though, before their last sortie, one heard nothing but What news of the fleets? of late there has been scarcely any inquiry ;-and so, the French one is returned to Brest, and ours is coming home.* Admiral Keppel is very unlucky in having missed them, for they had not above twentyfive ships. Letters from Paris say that their camps, too, are to break up at the end of this month: but we do not intend to be the dupes of that finesse, if it is one, but shall remain on our guard. One must hope that winter will produce some negotiation; and that peace. Indeed, as war is not declared, I conclude there is always some treating on the anvil; and should it end well, at least this age will have made a step towards humanity in omitting the ceremonial of proclamation, which seems to make it easier to cease being at war. I am rather making out a proxy for a letter than sending you news. But, you see, even armies of hundred thousands in Germany can execute as little as we; and you must remember what the grand Condé, or the great Prince of Orange,-I forget which,-said, that unmarried girls imagine husbands are always on duty, unmilitary men that soldiers are always fighting. One of the Duke of Marlborough's generals dining with the Lord Mayor, an alderman who sat next to him said, "Sir, yours must be a very laborious profession."—"No," replied the general, "we fight about four hours in the morning, and two or three after dinner, and then we have all the rest of the day to ourselves." But The King has been visiting camps, and so has Sir William Howe, who, one should think, had had enough of them; and who, one should think too, had not achieved such exploits as should make him fond of parading himself about, or expect many hosannahs. To have taken one town, and retreated from two, is not very glorious in military arithmetic; and to have marched twice to Washington, and returned without attacking him, is no addition to the sum total. Did I tell you that Mrs. Anne Pitt is returned, and acts great grief for her brother? I suppose she was the dupe of the farce acted by * After a fruitless search of two months for the enemy, Admiral Keppel returned with his fleet, on the 26th of October, to Portsmouth.-ED. |